


Matched Set

by i_claudia



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-29
Updated: 2011-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-11 05:42:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_claudia/pseuds/i_claudia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This!” he tells Steve, pointing at his desk, because there’s no way he’s actually going to <i>touch</i> it. “What is this, a valentine? Is that how you woo all the girls?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matched Set

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hermette's [Multi-Ship Pornathon](http://hermette.livejournal.com/246432.html) and originally posted on LJ [here](http://hermette.livejournal.com/246432.html?thread=11760800). (29 January 2011)

“Jesus H. Christ on a cracker,” Danny says, and God, this time he really is going to kill Steve and hide the body. “You did _not_.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve tells him, giving Danny his best wide-eyed innocent look, which he hasn’t realized yet is a _dead giveaway_ , because whenever Steve tries looking innocent he usually ends up somewhere between Aneurism Face and Brainwashed Face, which is not an attractive look for him. Danny would tell him, but sometimes it’s the only indicator he gets that Steve is about to do something incredibly stupid, and Danny isn’t as young as he used to be, he needs all the warning he can get.

“This!” he tells Steve, pointing at his desk, because there’s no way he’s actually going to _touch_ it. “What is this, a valentine? Is that how you woo all the girls?”

Chin looks through the doorway while Danny’s saying that, and his eyebrows fly up so fast Danny wonders sourly if he’ll throw a muscle in his forehead. “I’ll come back later,” he says, and retreats just a little too quickly, betraying just how loudly his internal _Danger! Danger Will Robinson!_ sensors are going off, which is almost funny, because Danny didn’t think anyone in 5-0 but himself possessed that sensor.

Almost funny. Not actually funny, because Danny is still stuck in the middle of HQ with a goddamn—

“Is that what I think it is?”

Danny tries to stand in front of Kono, block the way so she can’t see what’s sitting on his desk, but it’s too late.

“Why, Detective,” she says, far too amused for Danny’s own good, “I didn’t realize you were going for a matching color theme.”

Danny resists for all of half a minute before he bites. “What do you mean, matching?”

Kono and Steve exchange a look that promises only bad things, and then Kono says, brightly, “Well, it matches your Hello Kitty lapt—”

“ _Out_!” Danny bellows, pointing at the door. “Everyone out of my office, this is—do not even try looking at me like I kicked a puppy, McGarrett, this is _my_ office, and I can throw you out of it any time I damn well please.”

He shuts—does not slam, slamming is for twelve-year-olds and ugly divorces—his door, locks it, and glares balefully at the dildo sitting on his desk. It is pink, offensively so, decorated with a sparkly purple bow, and after a minute of making aggravated faces at it and hesitating, he pokes at it until it falls into the open desk drawer. He kicks the drawer shut with a vicious, empty sort of satisfaction., taking a moment to hate his life and everyone in it.

Pink dildos never showed up on his desk in the morning in New Jersey. One more reason he should never have moved to this godforsaken rock, Danny thinks, and resists the now-familiar urge to run to the airport and catch the next flight back to the mainland, because if he actually did that who knows what the deranged SEAL he’s tangled himself with might do in response. 

 

Danny knows Steve will win in the end, if for no other reason than it’s hard to fight against pure crazy because there’s no _logic_ there, and Danny needs at least a semblance of logic to be able to argue against things. And as much as he resists, as much as he yells at Steve and at himself and as much as he paces the four corners of his office and his apartment over and over again, in the end he always gives in. In the end, Danny is powerless in the face of Steve’s crooked grin and the way he ignores every rule in the book in order to torture people for information or watch over Grace when Danny’s being forcibly held by paramedics for a fractured collarbone or leave sex toys on Danny’s desk; in the end, Danny can’t deny he hasn’t thought—repeatedly, at length—about what it might feel like, what might happen if he lets Steve do whatever he want with Danny’s body.

When Steve opens his door, though, Danny attacks him. It’s only fair for him to exact a little punishment in return, he thinks; not that Steve is actually complaining while Danny leaves highly incriminating marks in the most conspicuous places he can think of. Danny wants to _have_ , to possess Steve as much as he himself feels possessed, but before he’s satisfied that urge they’re in the bedroom already, Steve breathing hot, damp words into Danny’s ear: terrible things while he strips them both out of their clothes, and Danny... God, Danny is so turned on it is actually _physically painful_.

He’d brought the dildo. Of course he’d brought it. It had come with his paperwork out of the desk drawer and been relegated to his locked glove compartment, where he had tried to forget about it until he had actually pulled up outside of Steve’s house, and leaving it behind hadn’t even been an option.

Steve uses it to work him open: it’s slippery, filthy, there’s lube everywhere and Danny is torn between feeling horribly uncomfortable because he is just so _wet_ , his ass is wet and there is lube dripping down over his balls, and shoving his hips back harder, faster, against where Steve’s fingers are digging into his hip, pinning him to the mattress. 

“Fucking—god _damn_ it, Steve,” Danny swears, and bucks up again, because it’s _good_ , God, so good, this stretch, his hole wide and clenching around the dildo Steve’s pushing deeper into Danny’s ass, but it isn’t _enough_. It isn’t Steve’s dick, and they haven’t done this much yet but they’ve done it enough for Danny to know what he wants, and what he wants right now is Steve’s cock splitting him open, driving so deep Danny’ll feel it in his fucking _throat_. “Will you just fucking _do_ something already?”

Steve laughs, because he is insane and also a bastard, and drags his fingers down to rub at the ring of muscle where the dildo disappears into Danny’s body. “Impatient,” he says, and too fucking right Danny is impatient; he has the king of all teases playing with his ass and not delivering on any of his promises.

So he tells Steve that, expounds on how exactly Steve is going to pay for making Danny suffer, and for leaving a _goddamned pink dildo_ on Danny’s desk in the office, they are going to have to discuss professional boundaries _again_ , for fuck’s sake, really, Steve—and Steve made a mistake moving his fingers, because Danny really, God, really likes what they’re doing, teasing at the rim of his asshole, dipping in and out while Steve works the dildo further into Danny, the hard plastic moving and rubbing in all sorts of pleasurable ways which are never going to be quite _enough_ , but now he can move, can get up onto his knees and elbows and press his hips back hard, demanding more so pointedly that even Steve can’t deny him any longer.

Danny isn’t sure he’ll ever get tired of Steve’s cock. Not that he has much—any—experience with other cocks, so he can’t do much of a comparative analysis, but Steve’s dick is perfect. He’ll never tell Steve that; Steve doesn’t need any more ego-boosting macho delusions of grandeur, because despite what the army—he can hear Steve’s pained correction even in his head, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sort of like it—might teach success in firefights is not correlated to the size of your prick. But the fact remains that Steve’s cock is beautiful, and when he slides it into Danny it hurts a little, but that dissolves so quickly into— _shit_ —into Steve filling all of Danny’s most sensitive places, sending his nerves and his breathing into overdrive.

Steve fucks into him slow, with steady rolls of his hips, and Jesus Christ, it’s going to be one of _those_ nights: one of the times that Steve’s determined to do what he calls “taking his time” and what Danny calls cruel and unusual punishment in the form of Steve McGarrett taking everything he can out of Danny’s ass and leaving him gasping before letting him come. Danny squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, letting his head hang down between his shoulders. When he opens them again, Steve’s hands are braced on either side of Danny’s own, the dildo clenched in his fingers, and he’s whispering, brushing his lips across the skin just behind Danny’s ear.

“You look so good with something in your ass,” he says, “so good with my cock in you, filling you up. Jesus, Danno, love how slutty you are for me, taking it and taking it—” and Danny shivers, can’t help shuddering, because Steve’s buried in him to the balls, and Steve is pressed all along his back, and Steve’s voice is grating low over the syllables, and how is Danny supposed to deal with all of that at once?

“Maybe I’ll get a buttplug next,” Steve muses, rolling his hips again. “I’ll fuck you and put the plug in while you’re still dripping, shove all my come back up inside you, and then later you can fuck me, or maybe suck me off—you’d like that, yeah? You love sucking my dick, I know you do; you can’t get enough of it...”

“Shit, Steve,” Danny chokes out, because he _does_ , fuck, he loves getting his mouth all over Steve, taking him in until he’s nearly gagging, working Steve over until Steve comes hot and bitter in Danny’s mouth, or all over Danny’s face, his neck—

Steve’s still talking, still fucking Danny deep and steady, and Danny’s hands are damp with sweat and slipping, sliding further down the sheets even as he clutches at the cotton with desperate fingers. His face is close to the dildo now, close enough that he can smell himself on it, smell the musk he’s come to associate with sex and Steve. 

“Yeah,” Steve is saying. He’s a little breathless now—fucking _finally_ , Danny thinks, a little belligerently, it’s about time Steve showed a reaction to something here—but he keeps going. “Yeah, you’ll suck me until you can’t stand it, until you rub yourself off on the sheets, and then after you come apart I’m gonna push you down and take the plug out, and then I’m going to fuck you through the mattress: you’ll be so loose, I’ll slide right in while you’re still shaking. You’ll be so wet, Danny, God, so wet from my come still, and I’ll fuck you until you can’t _see_ , shove my cock into you over and over until you want to _cry_ , it’ll be so good—”

Steve breaks off in a sudden, strangled noise because Danny has had enough of the torture and is taking things into his own hands. He’s let himself further down on his elbows, even though _fuck_ , it changes Steve’s angle to just this side of bearable, because now he can stretch his neck out and lip at Steve’s fingers where they’re still clenched around the dildo, drag his teeth over Steve’s knuckles, and Steve lets out a string of curses Danny’s pretty sure aren’t in any English dictionary.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Steve says, and Danny takes that as the all-clear to go ahead. He licks at Steve’s fingers, tries to suck one into his mouth, and when that doesn’t work—Steve too frozen from Danny doing something that obviously wasn’t in the Plan—he licks slowly down the length of the dildo, curling his tongue obscenely around the tip of it, and Steve chokes again, fumbles it until the angle’s better, and Danny closes his lips around it and takes it in as far as he can.

It’s not the number one thing he wants in his mouth—it’s got nothing on Steve’s cock, for instance—but it’s not bad. He presses his head down until he can feel it hitting the back of his throat, pulls back a little, concentrates on the thick bulk of it in his mouth. Steve’s moving faster now, slamming his cock harder, deeper into Danny’s ass, and shit, Danny does feel like a slut, Steve filling him in so many ways, and then Steve moves or changes his angle or God, does _something_ , and there are fucking fireworks going off along Danny’s spine and in his gut, everything pulling tight into a white-hot ball before blinding him, and he’s coming, _coming_ , so hard the world goes far away.

Steve never stops, keeps his hips slamming into Danny until he groans and comes too, sloppy, all over Danny’s ass. Danny thinks vaguely that he should be offended by that, by Steve making a mess and marking Danny like he can _claim_ or something, but he’s too busy feeling deliciously exhausted.

“Jesus,” Steve says finally, after they’ve both recovered a little.

“Mmm,” Danny replies, drowsy. “Not supposed to talk about other men while you’re in bed with me.”

“Very funny,” Steve tells him, rolling over and scootching himself back until he can burrow under Danny’s arm with absolutely no regard for personal space.

“I know I am,” Danny says, huffing a few quick breaths to get Steve’s hair away from his mouth. He tries to twist away a little bit, but Steve only grumbles and tangles their feet together, and really, go figure: Commander Steve McGarrett, Navy SEAL, likes being the little spoon. Danny thinks about bitching at him about it, but it really is sort of comfortable, so he just goes with it. “I suppose you were serious about the buttplug,” he says after a while, stroking a finger lightly along Steve’s wrist and trying not to sound too hopeful.

Steve cricks his neck back at what has to be an incredibly awkward angle to get a look at Danny. “Only if you want to,” he says, and really, Danny wants to say, Steve McGarrett, are you even for real?

“You can’t talk that big and then not deliver,” Danny says, as nonchalantly mocking as he can manage, and Steve fucking _beams_ at him.

“I’ll make it so good for you, baby,” Steve tells him, almost-teasing, and Danny says,

“Oh, go to hell,” and then, after a moment’s thought: “Jesus, you’re going to get a pink one of those, too, aren’t you?”

Steve just settles further into Danny’s arms. “Well,” he remarks. “I thought you might want to have a matched set. You know, to go with your color theme—”

“Fuck you!” Danny interrupts, but he’s hiding a grin against the bare skin of Steve’s neck, and he’s pretty sure Steve can feel it unfurling further along his skin.


End file.
